October finally arrived.
For most students, that meant cooler air, floating pumpkins, and excitement for Halloween.
For Alexander, it meant only one thing:
September had been fun.
But it was not fun enough.
The first week of October was unbearably dull.
Classes dragged.
Essays piled up.
Even Charms felt repetitive.
Worst of all.
Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Professor Adrian Blackwood lectured in his usual calm, polished tone, writing complex shield theory across the board.
To the rest of the class, it was impressive.
To Alexander, it was annoying.
Every wand movement Blackwood demonstrated was too precise.
Too practiced.
Not academic.
Alexander rested his chin on his palm, eyes half-lidded.
I wonder how many people he has killed before…
Blackwood turned suddenly, as if sensing the stare.
Their eyes met briefly.
Alexander smiled lazily.
Blackwood smiled back.
Neither smile held warmth.
By the time detention rolled around that evening, Alexander was already bored.
Filch had them polishing tarnished suits of armor in a corridor that smelled like rust and misery.
Fred groaned.
George leaned against a wall dramatically.
"This is psychological torture."
"It's been twenty minutes," Alexander said.
"Exactly," George replied.
Silence fell for a moment.
Then Alexander spoke casually, like someone suggesting tea.
"We should create more chaos."
Both twins froze.
Then slowly…
Their heads turned.
Eyes brightening in perfect synchronization.
Fred whispered, "Go on…"
George added, "We're listening…"
Alexander lowered his voice.
"Not loud chaos. Not explosions."
He smirked.
"Funny chaos."
Now they were fully invested.
They gathered closer, armor forgotten.
"I'm thinking rumors," Alexander said.
Fred blinked. "Rumors?"
"Controlled ones," Alexander clarified. "Harmless. Ridiculous. Impossible to trace."
George grinned. "Psychological warfare."
"Exactly."
The twins looked at each other — then back at him with growing admiration.
"Merlin," Fred said softly. "You're a genius."
Alexander ignored that.
Instead, he pulled folded parchment from his robes.
"But first," he said, "you need a spell upgrade."
Hidden behind a stairwell after detention, Alexander demonstrated.
"The Doubling Charm — Geminio," he said, enunciating carefully.
He tapped a single slip of parchment.
"Geminio."
The parchment split.
Then split again.
And again.
Within seconds, a small pile formed on the floor.
Fred's jaw dropped.
George immediately grabbed one.
"Oh, this is evil," he whispered reverently.
Alexander raised a finger.
"Temporary duplication variant. I modified the structure."
Both twins stared.
"You… modified a second-year spell?" Fred asked.
Alexander shrugged.
"They'll last twelve hours. Then vanish. No evidence."
The twins looked at him like he'd just invented Christmas.
"Teach us," George said instantly.
And he did.
Alexander made sure both could cast it properly before moving on.
Only when he was satisfied did he unfold the original rumor sheets.
"'If Snape smiles once — students will be hospitalized.'"
George wheezed.
"That's brilliant because it sounds believable."
Alexander nodded.
"Fear-based comedy."
Fred grabbed another.
"'Sorting Hat announces official retirement — admits to being racist.'"
George fell against the wall laughing.
"Retirement?! Racist?!"
Alexander simply moved to the last sheet.
This one he didn't laugh at.
Fred read it more slowly.
"'Professor Blackwood is a Death Eater hiding inside Hogwarts.'"
The corridor quieted slightly.
George looked up. "Bit darker than the others."
Alexander's voice stayed casual.
"People believe what they're already nervous about."
Fred studied him for a second… then grinned.
"Well then. Let's spread educational awareness."
That night's hide-and-seek adventure became a distribution campaign.
The trio moved like professionals.
Geminio multiplied stacks in seconds.
They scattered papers: Great Hall benches, Library tables, Staircase landings, Owlery steps, even outside the Potions classroom
Fred tossed handfuls dramatically.
George slid them under the doors.
Alexander enchanted a few to flutter down corridors like lost leaves.
By sunrise…
Hogwarts was primed.
It started at breakfast.
Students whispered loudly.
Heads turned toward the staff table.
Then toward Snape.
First years stared at him intensely.
Second years attempted jokes near him.
One Gryffindor tripped over a bench trying to make him laugh.
Snape did not smile.
But the vein in his temple pulsed violently.
By Tuesday…
Students were knocking on the gargoyle to Professor Dumbledore's office, trying visit the Sorting Hat.
Requesting transfers.
Arguing about "hat rights."
One Hufflepuff tried to file a complaint.
McGonagall tried to silence everyone.
The Sorting Hat made a public appearance and began yelling at students to leave it alone.
Which only made rumors worse.
By Wednesday…
Defense of the Dark Arts class became unbearable.
Hands kept rising.
"Professor, are you a Death Eater?"
"Professor, can you show us your arm?"
"Professor, hypothetically, if you were evil—"
Blackwood's smile never broke.
But his eyes hardened each time.
Alexander watched quietly from the back.
Interesting… you're not denying it strongly.
By Thursday, professors had reached one conclusion.
Alexander Chen.
Naturally.
Snape cornered him after Potions.
"You will cease this nonsense immediately."
"With respect, Professor," Alexander replied angrily, "you have no proof I started anything! Are you accusing me just because I am Asian?! Are you being racist right now?!"
Snape glared but was shocked.
Students heard the noise and ran back, and started whispering. Snape quickly turned around and walked away, saying, "5 points from Ravenclaw for yelling at a Professor!"
Alexander smiled pleasantly.
"Worth it."
Filch searched his belongings twice.
Nothing.
McGonagall questioned him.
Nothing.
Dumbledore merely watched him over his glasses… amused.
The problem?
Evidence kept disappearing.
Every paper vanished after twelve hours exactly.
No ink residue.
No spell trace.
Nothing.
Friday night, in a hidden corridor nook, the trio gathered.
Fred raised a butterbeer bottle.
"To rumors."
George clicked his.
"To psychological damage."
Alexander lifted his calmly.
"To twelve-hour evidence windows."
They drank.
Laughter echoed quietly through the hall.
Below them, Filch stormed past chasing a false lead.
They waited until his footsteps faded.
Then Fred leaned forward eagerly.
"So…"
George finished the thought.
"What's the next plan?"
Alexander's eyes gleamed in the dim torchlight.
Outside, the October wind rattled the castle windows.
"Halloween is coming," he said.
"And Hogwarts expects decorations."
His smile sharpened.
"Let's make sure they get them."
The twins' grins matched his perfectly.
And somewhere in the castle…
Professor Blackwood paused mid-step.
As if sensing the chaos about to escalate.